The Ardent
by TaraBy
Summary: Story begins around the season one episode of "The Faithful." Will the NYPD get together with the FBI,and in more ways than one? Characters from Major Case, SVU, and OC.
1. Chapter 1

"There are many things to think about besides sex, but why bother?" Jared had often asked her. Her mind had been persistently attacking her all day, which wasn't unusual. But now, it was assaulting her with lustful contemplation, which definitely wasn't helping this situation.

She didn't want to be here, and falling for some cocky detective would only complicate things. _I AM GOING BACK TO WASHINGTON,_she told herself, ignoring the heat that was spreading from her head to her toes as his large hand engulfed hers. She silently screamed at the universe,_I just want a normal life, is that too much to ask?_

_What am I doing in New York?_ She wondered._Tom promised me Washington._Was it only two days ago that he had worked his powers of persuasion on her?

Tom was her boss, and he owed her. She had wanted to settle in Washington over 2 years ago, after a tough series of undercover jobs and the split with her partner, Jared. She had earned some downtime. But Tom was the kind of man that could sell ice to an Eskimo. Back then he had convinced her to take a "once in a lifetime" opportunity to see the country, courtesy of the FBI. "Tom, while many women might like to travel, and see the country, I doubt that many of them would like to spend the trip in extensive visits with serial killers," she spouted off. "Not just the killers Regan, the men who caught them too," he reminded her. And off she went, spending the next two years profiling the country's best profilers, and the men they caught. Robert Goren was her last interview before she began to write her report. She hadn't even asked him to talk to her yet.

Now the FBI wanted to send her in to fix the unfixable. They wanted a real, working partnership with the NYPD. They wanted tensions eased between the two organizations. It was like asking the kid to referee the fighting between Daddy and Mommy. She had grown up in New York, but had fallen in love with Washington D.C. during her college years. She was in her 30's and well aware that if she wanted kids, she had better decide, and stop playing super agent.

"But you will still BE in Washington," Tom had said, trying to convince her. He was a great boss, and a damn liar. "You will just commute to New York sometimes. Regan, this is a perfect match for your skills. You needed to interview Goren anyway right? Now you will be able to spend some time observing him." She smirked at that thought. Observing him. Oh, she had observed him all right. She had arrived at 1 Police Plaza, home of the NYPD, this morning with Agent O'dell, the man she was here to replace. They entered the elevator in silence. O'dell pushed the button for the eleventh floor. "Don't expect a warm greeting," he said snidely. "They think we are out to get them."

"I'm keeping an open mind," she replied, trying to sound positive.

Captain Deakins welcomed them to the Major Case Squad. He was not happy to have another influx from Washington, and he knew his staff wouldn't like it either, but he had been given strict orders to give this new agent access to what she needed. They went right into observation.

Detective Goren was in the interrogation room with a suspect. Well, actually, Detective Goren was dancing around interrogation with an obviously manic, homeless man. Alex Eames, Goren's partner, was already watching through the two way mirror.

O'dell let out a big, disapproving sigh. He was cloaked in that stiff-shirt attitude that everyone hated. _O'dell, you Jackass_, Regan thought, "_if you had an ounce of tact, I would be sitting in an office in Washington right now, not here watching "The Goren Show"_, (as Deakins had put it).

But now was the time for diplomacy, she could bitch later, uh, she could "vent" later. ( "Watch your language Stabler," her boss had warned her before she left. Remember that you are there to calm things down, not to stoke the fire.")

She smiled and put on her game face. "Agent O'dell, I know that you are aware of how often we have tried to get our own agents to use personality mirroring in the way Detective Goren is using it right now. It is really impressive seeing the NYPD put it into action, huh? It is easy to see why Detectives Goren and Eames have had such success."

She smiled her most professional smile and looked around the room. O'dell seemed to be the only one who bought that line of crap. Eames looked at her with distrust. Deakins was wary, but seemed to be grateful she was getting O'dell off his back.

"I'm going to get some coffee," O'dell said as he left the room.

Regan turned her attention back to Detective Goren. He had given the homeless man doughnuts and come into the room. "He's not our guy."

"Detective Goren, meet FBI agent Regan Stabler, she is going to be working with us to build a new task force," Eames said with a smirk.

Goren gave Eames a knowing glance and turned toward Stabler, quickly observing her. Tall, nice figure, she looked vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place her. He held out his hand, and looked into her eyes. She had been told to expect him to be brilliant, and, well, unconventional.

What she didn't expect was that he would be so, so… statuesque, to put it eloquently. She didn't expect that he would be so well dressed ( did his shoes cost more than hers?), and she certainly didn't expect to have butterflies when she met him. _Maybe I am coming down with the flu_, she lied to herself.

"Uh, Agent Stabler?" Goren asked with raised eyebrows.

She snapped back to reality. "Oh, yes, it is nice to meet you as well, Detective Goren. And please, feel free to call me Regan." She silently wondered if she had pulled it off. Did she look like a confident FBI Agent, or a silly schoolgirl?

She couldn't read him. He smiled politely and looked into her eyes. Was she dreaming it, or did the eye contact and handshake between them last just a bit too long? _Stop it_, she said to herself. _It is probably just the old "don't -show –weakness- by- breaking- eye-contact- or- handshake- first" routine. Damn it, who cares, I am supposed to be WORKING here._Goren grabbed a bottle of water, mumbled something to his partner ( did he say "lots of practice?") and the two of them strolled out of the room.

She sighed, and looked around. When had Deakins left? Here she was again, alone in a bleak gray room with a two way mirror. She got a bottle of water for herself, leaned back against the wall and tried to think about something besides... why bother?


	2. Chapter 2

On the way to St. Justin's, Goren leaned his head back against the seat of the car. He was drained. As he told Eames, he had a lot of experience in communicating with the mentally ill, but that didn't mean it was easy. Dealing with those issues brought up memories and feelings he didn't want to deal with right now. There was nothing else he could do on this case until they talked to a priest, and his brain was persistently trying to engage in something, anything.

"So, what did Stabler have to say?" he asked Eames.

"Not much. Typical bureaucratic BS," she said cynically. " 'The FBI has the utmost respect for the NYPD. Washington wants to build a real working taskforce in New York'…blah, blah. We have heard it all before."

_But not from such a sexy mouth_, he thought lustfully.

Goren was intrigued by his immediate attraction to Stabler. While he found women compelling, he didn't often have such a strong, initial reaction.

Lately, his relationships with women had been fun, and sometimes passionate, but rarely did they have a big impact on him. He held the belief that he wanted a committed relationship, and maybe even a family, but his actions seemed to dispute it. When it came right down to it, no relationship had proven worth the sacrifices he was asked to make in order to keep the affair going. Not that the women weren't worth it, but he was fulfilled (at least that is what he told himself) with his job, and his many interests. At least for now.

He didn't realize his appeal to women. To get someone to talk, to figure out what makes them tick, (what gets them into, and pleases them in bed), well, it was a challenge he found hard to resist. The women on the receiving end of that pursuit found it hard to resist as well. He was naturally charming. Flirting was as mindless to him as breathing. These were things he didn't acknowledge consciously, because if he did, it might mean that he would have to face a fact that he would abhor—there was a lot of his father in him.

Since he was a young boy, he had known his father was a womanizer. He had made every conscious effort to avoid that behavior. He treated women with much more respect than he had ever been taught. He had long ago given up the type of sexual trists that filled him with self-loathing.

Yet now he often found himself enjoying the game of "pursuit and capture" and avoiding the deeper relationship. It was a subject he avoided thinking about too much. He found if he pursued women who were playful, confident, and very attached to their own lives, things went much smoother for everyone. Women like Stabler…

His mind replayed the meeting with Agent Stabler. He knew he wasn't imagining it- their initial eye contact and handshake lingered just slightly. Was it attraction, or competition he saw in that moment? Either one would be interesting…

"Did she say her first name was Regan?" he asked Eames.

"Yes, that's her name. Wasn't that also the name of the girl in the Exorcist?" she quipped.

He chuckled. "Yes, but its also an Irish name. Oh, and Regan… Regan, she, she was a character in Shakespeare. One of King Lear's evil daughters. Regan Stabler… that's definitely an Irish name."

"Did you know her brother is Elliot Stabler?"

"At SVU?"

"Yes."

"No, I didn't know that, but I thought she looked familiar. I see the family resemblance." Yes, he could see it now. She had lighter hair, probably highlighted, much softer, feminine features, and slightly darker eyes, but he could see them as siblings.

"Yeah, well appearance is the only DNA they have in common. She got the family genes for diplomacy. He is on the hotheaded side." Not that it was a bad thing. A few months ago, they had worked with SVU on a case. Elliot had reminded Alex of her dad, a hardworking, stubborn, old-school NYPD cop. She wondered what Elliot thought of his sister trying to schmooze the NYPD for the FBI.

Goren had gone back to thinking about her appearance. Tall, she must have been at least 5'8", and with heels, she was much taller than any woman he had been with recently. Long legs… ok, this had gone far enough for now. He was about to go into the church for goodness sake.

"Oh," Eames said as they walked into the church, "she wants to go through this case with us- to find out how we do things. Apparently she is doing some research as well…learning from the best, I think she said." Eames rolled her eyes.

"Well, that's a good sign. At least she isn't storming in here and trying to tell us what to do," he replied as they went through the door.


	3. Chapter 3

"Don't make this harder than it has to be. Just tell me what you did, it's that simple." Regan demanded. She was furious, but holding on to her composure.

He was astounded by her arrogance.

He put his hands behind his back and leaned over slightly and stared into her eyes. He didn't have to lean too far. _She's tall_. He pushed the thought out of his head, and lowered his voice. "No." he said simply.

"You underestimate me Detective." She glared at him.

"I wasn't aware that I had estimated you. This is our case, we had no obligation to include you in any part of it." He was beyond humoring her.

She had proven incompetent. He and Eames had easily ditched her to find Melanie Grasso. He had closed the case before she even realized she was out of the loop. This was exactly why he had no patience for the FBI. He looked down at her. The cold air was turning her nose red. As much as he tried to fight it, he still found her attractive. He took another step forward. It never hurt to invade someone's personal space. He would see where this would lead.

She was astounded by his arrogance.

She was trying to save them both some professional pride here. After all, she had carefully aranged this "chance" meeting outside the D.A.'s office. She thought that out here, he wouldn't have to worry about anyone finding out whatever he was hiding. Of course, out here she was safe from humiliation as well.

It had not been a good week, at least not for her.

Regan was willing to admit that she had come to NY in an apathetic state.

She had been doing interviewing, research, and some writing for over 2 years. She had been out of direct action.

That all changed the day she went with Goren and Eames to the arcade to get Kevin Dononvan. It wasn't that the situation was brand new to her. Hardly. In her years with Jared, scenes like that were common. It wasn't even that it was all that exciting. Kevin had no gun; there was no real threat. But seeing Eames dodge his swing, and seeing Goren slam him down and cuff him, well, it was like blood in the water to a shark. She was the shark and she was after more blood.

The adrenaline that pumped through her veins on that day was as addictive as heroine. She remembered why she loved being an agent.

She would have loved to say that it was the FBI mission…that she loved "protecting and defending the US against terrorists and spies; upholding and enforcing the criminal laws of the US; and providing leadership and criminal justice services to our international, federal, state, and local partners."

Partly, it was that. But those were the rules of the game.

She loved the rules, but what hooked her?

It was the play, and the WIN.

So when Detectives Goren and Eames ditched her in the middle of the case, she would not be pacified. She WOULD find out what happened, and she WOULD make sure they knew that she had found the information she was looking for. In short, she would let them know that they had not gotten over on her.

Her apathy was now defunct.

And Goren, trying to intimidate her with his arrogance, and his physicality, was not going to control her. (She refused to admit that when he had taken that step into her physical space, that her stomach had once again flipped.)

She ignored her stomach, and the throbbing in the left side of her head, and put on her game face. "I know about Melanie Grasso; I know you pulled the end run around Carver and made the deal with McShale."

He took a step back. She was good. He had underestimated her.

_Ah ha_. She had gotten him. She had not lost her instincts after all. She had done a little investigating, but really her theory was a big conjecture-until now.

She looked at him. She stored his reaction in the back of her mind. _He takes a step back, blinks, recovers quickly when blindsided with a truth._ That information would come in handy.

Bobby stepped forward. True, he had been blindsided, but it wasn't the first time. He regrouped. He had to get back into the game.

He noticed that she was rubbing her left temple. A strange reaction considering she had just had a victory. Her left hand had a rather large crescent shaped birthmark. He had realized it a couple of days ago. He had missed it the day of their first meeting.

"What is it that you want?" he asked, as he took another step forward. _She smells good_.

She felt the electricity of his presence as he moved closer to her. Why was he moving closer now? Game on;headache and all. She refused to back up. Let him stand on top of her. Jared's quote came back to her… think about sex indeed. Jared had run on pure instinct. He was convinced everyone was motivated by sex, at some level, and all the time. "All you have to do is figure out the motivation and the level," he would tell her.

_Focus Regan. You aren't Jared; you use your intellect. What **did** she want?_

"I want you and Eames to stop fighting me." Did she sound weak? " I want you to talk to me," she stated much more firmly. _Damn_, this cold was doing a number on her head.

"Wha, what do you want to talk to me about?" he asked as he rubbed his neck.

She sighed. "This case, and some other things." That didn't sound right."I am doing some research and I would like to ask you some questions. Listen, I have to get out of this cold. When can you talk?"

"Are you alright?" he sounded genuinely concerned. She was touched, but still guarded. Was her pain that obvious?

"Oh, fine, I will be fine when I get the hell out of this damn cold," she griped.

She heard Tom's voice in her head. _ Language Stabler_. She would have to tell Tom later; his voice penetrated through the worst of headaches.

"Listen, Eames took the afternoon off. If you get out of the cold do you think that you will feel well enough to talk today?" Bobby wanted to get this over with. He needed his head to clear.

"That would be great, actually. I am supposed to go back to Washington tomorrow. Can I follow you back to 1PP?"

"No, come on, I know a great place we can talk." He sounded more relaxed now.

"Do they have coffee?" It was her drug of choice.

"Yes," he smiled and wondered if her headache was caused by caffeine withdrawal.


	4. Chapter 4

"Detective, wait, let's just go to 1PP." Regan rubbed her left temple. "I am expecting a phone call from my boss, and it will be easier to talk to him there." That wasn't the reason. They both knew that.

He turned and looked at her with a blank stare. "Ok." He was having a hard time reading her.

One hour, three ibupropen, and one strong cup of coffee later, she was feeling better. She knew she was getting back to normal because THE FIGHT was back.

THE FIGHT had been her name for "it" since she was a young girl. "It"was an overpowering force inside of her and "it" said, "_engage, play, fight, control, win, don't give up, don't let anyone get over on you._" "It" was the fury inside that refused to accept weakness, or to be soft. Her bad habit of cursing came from THE FIGHT. ( Well, that, and the fact that she grew up with a father who told her brothers, "If the worse thing you do is say the 'F Word' you have a ticket to heaven." Never one to let someone have the last word, she always reminded her father that her four older brothers, had indeed, done much worse than that.)

She knew, of course, that THE FIGHT was a big cover up for another force that had been with her since she was very young- fear. As long as she could remember, every move she made seemed to be peppered with fear. Fear that needed to be overcome. Of course this was insanely ironic, because most people at work would describe her as an agent with "a set of brass ones." It was also incredibly exhausting.

Ignoring had become a life saving skill. As an agent, she had learned to use reason, and to reason, you had to bypass emotional turmoil. She bypassed emotional turmoil by giving it the cold shoulder. Whether it was passion or pain; physical or emotional; she had learned to discount it.

Hadn't Sherlock Holmes said, "… love is an emotional thing, and whatever is emotional is opposed to that true, cold reason which I place above all things"?

Although she was pretty sure that what she was feeling was lust, not love, she was ignoring it all the same. Well, at least she was making a grand attempt.

On the car ride from the D.A.'s office; she praised herself for deciding to have this meeting at 1PP.

Major Case had an interview room that had walls of glass. She chose to meet with him there. She was sure that knowing that everyone was watching would keep her mind focused on business.

But the fact that, at the moment, she was focused on Bobby Goren's big, broad shoulders; and large, sensual hands, had her now thinking otherwise.

Bobby watched her mindlessly run her finger around the rim of her coffee mug. He couldn't stop staring at her birthmark. That large, dark cresent on her left hand was holding him captive. He wanted to grab her hand, kiss the birthmark, and watch it run over his body...

The fact that they were in plain sight of the whole floor was only making the tension worse...

Bobby and Regan jumped at the sound of Regan's phone.

She looked at the phone and then turned to him, "It's the boss, I'm sorry."

He waved his hand and got up. "I'll be back."

He needed the break anyway. He had been talking for an hour. She had asked him about his background, experience, and insights, into profiling and interrogating. It was a subject he welcomed the chance to discuss, since he often felt like the "odd man out" in Major Case. But in the last 15 minutes or so- since she had started stroking the mug-he was distracted.

He strolled out of the room and took a deep breath.

Captain Deakins walked over to him and asked, "How is it going?"

"Oh, fine."

"Did she read you the riot act? She was pretty upset that you and Eames dropped her this week. She wanted to know what you were hiding."

Goren gave a half smile. "Well, she let me know what she thought."

"How was the meeting with Carver?" Deakins saw a shadow cross Goren's face. "He told me McShale took the deal." The Captain waited to see how much Goren would reveal on his own.

Bobby wondered how a simple act of benevolence had turned into such a big issue. He reasoned through the facts of the case again... Melanie Grasso's present life would have been wrecked by a trial; Father McShale needed to hear that in a clear way. Father McShale was serving plenty of time. Justice had been served. THIS situation was why he had a "disregard for authority", as Eames had said earlier in the week. He had made a move that had been beneficial for all. Now: Deakins was questioning him, Eames had accused him, Stabler was furious, and D.A. Carver had threatened his badge. Bobby considered the whole situation to be contemptible.

Bobby shook his head. "Uh, well, the meeting with Carver, was, well, he, he told me McShale took the deal."

"Don't tell me anymore, Detective. Just mind your p's and q's. Oh," Deakins smirked and nodded toward the interview room, "Give the agent a break. Maybe she can actually do something."

_Maybe she can_. Bobby headed for the soda machine and said to the captain over his shoulder, "I bet she can." Now it was Bobby's turn to smirk.

Regan had just hung up with Tom when the phone rang again. She looked at it.

_ Elliot. Here we go_, she thought. She looked around, Goren was no where to be seen.

She answered. "Hey."

"Ok, what's up?"

She sighed. No one in her family used simple greetings when talking with each other. It was get right down to business. She knew that Elliot REALLY wanted to know what was up. He wasn't making small talk.

She didn't care. She didn't want to get into it now. Small talk it was. She knew it would drive him crazy. She smiled at the prospect, and said lightly,"Not much here, what is going on with you guys?"

"Regan…" she heard the frustration in his voice.

"What?" she said in her sweetest tone.

"Cut the crap. I haven't heard from you in days. You have been in New York for over a week, and we haven't seen you. Why?"

_Because_, she thought to herself, _Because if I come over you will see all the things I am hiding from you. _

There was no escaping it. She would have to see him. The truth was, she wanted to see him, and his family- she always saw them when she was in New York. But he always wanted to know everything. She wasn't a kid anymore. She would have to prepare for the interrogation to come. "I am leaving tomorrow. How about if I stay over tonight?"

"You know that is fine, but you still haven't answered- WHY?" She heard the concern in his voice. She felt bad now. She knew he would do anything for her.

"Elliot, this isn't an easy assignment, and you know I don't even want to be here." _And if you knew I was falling for Bobby Goren, you would freak out and pull your overprotective big brother crap._

"Fine. We will talk later. Dickie and Lizzie have a basketball game tonight, want to come?"

She was excited. "Yes! I definitely want to come! What time and where?" Goren had come back into the room.

"I will have Kathy call you; I'm not even sure myself."

"Ok, see you then," she decided to throw him a bone. "I love you."

"You too." And he hung up, without saying good-bye. She smiled.

"Hot date?" Goren asked.

"Something like that. Sorry about the interruption, Detective. Can we talk just a bit more?"

"Well," he laid his hands flat on the table. He was bored with talking about himself. He was ready to play. " Agent Stabler. The way I see it, you owe me. You butt into my case, followed me to the D.A.'s office, and you, you have taken up my afternoon."

She mirrored his pose and put her hands on the table. He looked down at the birthmark and caught his breath. He moved his hands toward hers, just slightly. She noticed. She looked down at the hands. He leaned down and caught her eyes. He drew them back up.

She stared into his eyes. "Wh, what do you want?" Yes, she did it, she mirrored his stammer. She wasn't sure that his charming geekiness wasn't a ruse to get information. If he wanted a showdown of the interrogators, he would get it. Ignore. She ignored the change in her breathing.

He noticed it. He changed his breathing to match hers.

She waited. She would not let the silence coax her into talking.

He put his chin in his hands and leaned forward. _She smells good._ He knew that she had a strong auditory response, so he lowered his voice, "I want... I want," he paused and watched her reaction.

_Damn him for using that voice_. She may or may not be faking him out with her obvious, outward reactions; but her body was having some very definite reactions that couldn't be seen. She put her chin in her hands but scooted her chair away from the table. She was aware that the two of them could be seen here. She wasn't going to ruin her reputation for a game.

He sat back up, raised one eyebrow and said, "I want you to call me Bobby." He lowered his voice said her name for the first time, half mockingly, half seductively, "Regan."

She sat back and raised one eyebrow as well. "Ok, at least for the moment,"and she lowered her voice, "Bobby... What do I get now?"

His eyes sparkled. He looked at her. She was tenacious, full of energy. _What is it like to be inside of, surrounded by, all that tenacity_? He had to put a stop to that line of thinking...for now. He adjusted his coat and didn't break eye contact.

"Now you can ask me another question." He noticed the flash in her eyes. He saw it, she couldn't hide it, she liked turning control over to him, at least for a while.

Her whole body was full of heat. They were in a battle for control. _He's winning, for now. I don't care. __I like it__. _She wanted to push it... she leaned forward, lowered her voice again, and asked, "What did Carver say to you this morning?" She stared.

Blindsided. He sat back, blinked, and recovered. _Give her what she wants. What the hell. "He said he'd have my badge if I did that again."_

She saw the shadow go across his face.

For an instant, he saw concern in her.

He was moved, but she was still hiding things. "What happened to your left ear?"

Now it was her turn to be blindsided. The blood drained from her face, her eyes looked like a storm.

Now he was serious. He wanted to know.

She saw compassion and questioning on his face. _Recover Regan. Game face. "I , it got injured, in an accident."_

She was lying. But he knew that was all that she would say. His guard went back up.

"Ok, your turn," he said.

She saw the game was over. She felt sick, and now her left temple was starting to throb. _Damn him. "Why, how did you know-about my ear?"_

"The phone call. You are left handed but you held the phone with your right hand and put it up to your right ear. Your headache this morning… and now."

She realized she was rubbing her left temple. She put her hand down.

He smiled.

She was exhausted. "Go ahead," she said.

He felt for her, but he wasn't giving this up. "How did you know?"

"What?"she was confused.

"About the deal, McShale." He wanted to know how she had figured it out.

"Oh that wasn't hard. After all, you figured it out. I figured it out the same way. How did you know about McShale and Grasso? It was easy to check out the evidence box that you and Eames pulled. But what really gave it away was **you**." She wanted to make him feel vulnerable in the way that she did right now. Her head was spinning.

"Me?" He looked at her, waiting.

She pointed to his desk. " You, reading the Bible right there. Your voice; your compassion for the church. You have a soft spot for goodness, kindness, heart- the things of faith. I figured that you would have protected everyone's faith, if you could. You wouldn't have let Melanie's life, the faith of her family, be destroyed. And McShale, well, you gave him a chance to preserve his faith as well, I would assume."

He was contemplative. He wasn't sure anyone had ever paid that much attention to him. Not like that. Not that kind of attention.

She recovered some pride at her success. But now she was truly touched. "Go ahead," she offered.

He was soft. There was a gleam in his eyes. "You know what? I think I'm done."


	5. Chapter 5

The phone rang. Bobby was called out.

When he left the room, Regan let out a deep breath. _I need a diversion_, she thought.

She picked up the phone and called Elliot. "It is time for you to leave work and focus on your family."

"The game isn't until later," he said.

_Damn, he is stubborn,_ Regan muttered to herself.

"Come on, go for a run with me," Regan needed to burn some energy. But, whether she admitted it or not, this was about control. She thought she could steer the conversation better if she got to Elliot out on her own terms. Plus, evading Elliot's questions would keep her mind off of her reaction to Bobby.

"After that, we can go help Kathy get dinner, and get the kids ready. Can you get away?" She heard the pause of a workaholic. Kathy was Elliot's wife, and Regan knew that she wasn't happy with the time Elliot spent at work. Regan didn't blame her. Regan remembered her own mother complaining about being alone every evening when their father was working. Being a cop's wife wasn't easy.

"Elliot, say yes. Think about it, in one evening, you can make your sister happy, your kids will remember what their father looks like, your brain and spirit will be refreshed, and, you will have a wife who is aflame with gratitude." _Aflame? What the hell?_ The lust was oozing out of her subconscious.

To Elliot, little sisters were for spoiling, teasing and protecting. He certainly gave her enough teasing and protecting. It wasn't easy to get him to leave work early, but she had convinced him.

"Ok, let's do it," he said.

Regan hung up the phone and gathered her things from the room. She was walking out the door, looking toward Bobby's desk, when suddenly, she ran right into him. He reached around and grabbed her shoulder, as if to make sure she didn't lose her balance. "Sorry," he smiled. He leaned down, "Are you ok?"

_Am I ok?_ Regan felt the weight of his hand on her shoulder, and the weight of something growing inside her that was becoming harder to escape. She looked at his face. Relaxed earlier, now it was intense, focused. She could feel how close she was to him; she glanced down at his suit jacket, blue. It was blue. She must be just centimeters away from him.

Suddenly Regan felt small and powerless. Powerless over his size. Powerless over what he could do to her emotionally. Powerless over the intensity which was burning inside of her. She hated feeling powerless. She felt sick at the emotion.

"In a hurry?" she questioned, a little condescendingly. The FIGHT was rising up.

His eyes widened a bit. He looked at her. Later, he would try to figure out this reaction that she was having. Right now, he had work to do.

"Uh, yeah, well I got a call," he motioned toward the phone. He was in a hurry, but that didn't stop his ever- working nose from breathing in her scent. _She's so close. She smells good._

Another just- a- bit- too- long moment.

"I have to, I gotta go," he nodded his head toward the door, and he finally stepped aside, clearing the doorway for her.

"Thanks," she said shortly, irritated at his sudden rush to leave. She stepped by him without smiling, or looking back. She had to squash the school girl rising up in her._ He is working, for God's sake._

She went out and gathered her things. As she was getting them together, Bobby breezed by her, grabbing his coat, and papers. He distractedly mumbled goodbye as he went past her.

Regan realized that she had just gotten some very pragmatic information. When Bobby Goren was involved in a case, the rest of the world faded away.


	6. Chapter 6

"Screw you, Elliot!" Regan shouted.

"Wow, they **are** making a diplomat out of you, 6 months ago you would have used the "F" word," he mocked.

"I still will if you don't shut up."

Regan was leaned over, hands on knees, watching her breath turn into a cloud in the cold air. She and Elliot had met at a park near his house, where they often went to run. The run had gone well, until he convinced her to go another mile. She knew what he was up to, but she had been running a lot since they had last gotten together, and thought maybe, just maybe, this time she could beat him.

"Lets race," he said. He had played her, given her hope, only to sprint out in front of her, taunting her the whole way. He had played an old game that was a favorite with her brothers: play on Regan's inability to resist a challenge, beat her, and the watch her fury fly.

_Damn it, the FIGHT, I am going to die of a heart attack_, Regan thought. She stood up and took a deep breath. Her head was starting to hurt again.

_I have got to learn to let this shit,er, crap, go._

She wasn't going to give Elliot any more satisfaction. She turned and walked away from him.

"Regan, come on," he said.

As she was walking away, it all hit her. She was like a full glass of water, carefully balanced, and the loss to Elliot had caused it to overflow. The pain, the fear, the FIGHT, the split with her partner Jared, the months of jails, talking to maniacs and listening to evil beyond imagination, the open case, coming to New York, being humiliated by Goren and Eames, Goren… her upset stomach since she met him, Goren, asking about her ear, her ear, everything, everything… she felt tears. She started to jog again.

She had to stop the tears. If she started to cry, how could she do her job? _I'll never stop_, she whimpered to herself. She looked at the gray sky, and the trees.

_Ignore Regan_, she said to herself_. Ignore. Look at the trees, they have no leaves, they are brown…_

"Hey," she felt Elliot's hand on her arm. She hadn't heard him call her and come up behind her. He came around in front of her to block her way. She tried to go around him. He stepped in front of her again.

"Stop," he ordered. "Regan stop!"

If she looked at him, she was afraid she would cry. She stared at the ground.

"Let's go," he demanded. "Right now, you are going to tell me now what is going on."

She was a whirlwind inside, torn between wanting to fall into his arms, being the baby sister, sobbing, telling him everything, and wanting to just run away. She knew she wasn't going to escape him, so she had to muster up some resources. If she spoke, she would fall apart.

He still had her arm. She tried to jerk it away. As she turned, he caught a glimpse of her face- tears.

Just a couple of tears were dripping down her cheeks. It was hard to shock Elliot, but this did it. He had not seen Regan cry in years. She had been through a lot, but no tears.

Elliot felt a pinch in his chest, which he tried to pass off as the cold air after his intense run. But the back of his mind was recalling a memory from a morning when they were kids. Regan's face, covered with tears. On that morning, he had been receiving a harsh beating from his father. The beating wasn't unusual, but on this day, Regan witnessed it. Elliot could still hear her scream as she ran into the room. She rushed to his side, holding onto him tightly, getting between Elliot and the next hit of the belt. She grabbed Elliot tighter and cried out, "Daddy NO! NO Daddy! Don't hit Elli!"

Elliot reached down and pulled Regan from his leg, and yelled at her, "No Regy, GO!" As he turned to push her away, Elliot got an even bigger shock. His mother had been standing there, watching the whole thing, doing nothing.

On that day two things happened in Elliot. He decided he would never just stand by and let the weak be hurt, and he and Regan became allies.

Now, at the park,he felt rage building inside of him. He wanted to know what had caused her to cry. He wanted to know.

Regan had turned her back to him. His voice had caused her heart to jump. She knew that tone.

"Regan, you can tell me, or I can find out myself."

_Damn_, Regan thought. She knew he meant it. As a cop, he had an unbelievable solve rate, and she was experiencing first hand the reason why. She was backed into a corner.

He stood with his hands folded across his chest, waiting.

She leaned down on her knees again. She squinted her eyes, her head was now starting to pound.

She stood up and looked at him. His eyes looked like steel.

"It's, it's everything," she started.

"You've been through a lot."

"Stop working me Elliot," she felt like a perp in interrogation. She didn't trust his validation.

He shuffled his feet, looked at the ground, put his hands in his pockets, and looked at her again. Eyes still steel. He said nothing.

He was making her nervous. _Damn him!_ She had been in rooms with some of the most evil men alive, and she hadn't been this nervous.

"Everything," she moaned. " Jared. All those damn interviews. Unsolved case. Coming to New York. Goren and Eames. Just all this fight inside me. Dammit, I have a headache. I'm all alone!"

_Jared._ Elliot thought. _If he knows what's good for him, he will stay undercover and never come out._ He looked at Regan. She was holding the sides of her head, her nose was red from the cold. Her eyes looked like steel.

"You aren't alone. Of all people, I know about those interviews, looking evil in the face. You know that I know." He was worried about the way she was holding her head. "Are you ok?" He pulled her hand from her head.

She wiped her face. She was focused on dealing with him now, she was safe, she wouldn't cry.

"I just, I don't know, I guess everything just hit me."

"Something happened," he said.

"No," she insisted.

"Yes. Tell me." He paused. "You said Goren and Eames, why?"

She pressed her palms into her eyes. "Elliot! Stop!" He was relentless.

He put his hands on his head and took a deep breath. She remembered his threat to find out. "It, it was nothing," she stammered. "They left me in the middle of a case. I was embarrassed. It wasn't them. You would have done it too, and so would've I."

"What happened?"

She just decided to tell him the whole thing. She told him that she had figured it out, and gotten some respect from them. He smiled and shook his head. " You're a fighter."

She looked at him, trying to figure out if he had let it go, or if he would be holding a resentment against Goren and Eames. "They didn't do anything wrong Elliot. They are good detectives."

"I know. I worked with them. They should have told you they didn't want you along." He might have done it, but they did it to his sister. Surely they knew she was his sister. Now it felt personal.

"Elliot, please."

"I am just saying…"

"I know," she sighed. "Everything is the direct approach with you."

He had gotten her talking, and she kept on talking. She talked to him about faces, and voices, from her research that had stayed with her. She had been sent out on a mission to come back with the newest, and best research on catching the criminal. She gathered information from all over the country. Creep after creep, madman after madman, victim after victim, cop after cop, good cops, bad cops. Now, it was her job to make it all into new training for law enforcement. Running off to New York would only delay the report, and the training. She was frustrated. Plus, she still had open cases.

"You still have open cases? That you are working on?" He was stunned.

"Just a couple. They just need time."

He sighed and looked at her.

He annoyed her to no end, but when it came to things like this, she was so grateful to have him. She could trust him, he looked into the face of evil everyday. He KNEW.

She talked just as much as she could without crying. He listened, he understood. Finally, she stopped. " Happy? Is that enough?" she asked.

"Is that everything?"

"Yes."

He didn't believe her. But it was enough for now.

"Do you have to go back to Washington? Tomorrow?" He didn't think she should be alone.

"Yes. I have meetings."

"When are you going to be done with this research?" He asked. She needed some closure.

"I don't know. I have to add some things I got from Goren."

Goren. Her face had flashed when she said his name. Elliot was suspicious. "What did you get from him?"

"Information about a profiler he worked with. Declan Gage." She hoped that bit of detail would pacify Elliot.

"Did you get the information you needed?" Elliot could imagine Goren holding out on her, especially if he didn't trust her.

"Yes." But now she wondered if she did. She had really enjoyed talking with him. He was smart, really smart. He was passionate; he had definitely found his calling. He was good at what he did. Wasn't she wondering right now if he had played her? She had been won over by his innocent geekiness, and charm. Was that a ruse? She still wasn't sure. Suddenly, she was wondering if she had been so infatuated with Goren that she had missed some information. Information on Gage was the main reason she had needed to talk to him, and he hadn't said much.

Elliot was standing in front of her, arms crossed again, examining her face. Worry. He saw worry.

Regan knew that he wasn't satisfied.

"I'm exhausted," she said. "And we have a game to get to." She was looking forward to seeing her nephew, and nieces.

She started to walk off and he grabbed her arm again. "Wait."

She turned and looked at him.

"I am worried about you sitting on this research with no end to it. Now, they have you playing mouthpiece up here, and you will never get it done."

"I will be fine, I have been debriefed."

"What is the plan? For your job?"

"First of all, I am not just playing mouthpiece up here. I am coordinating teams, among other things." Grrrrr… she knew his feelings about the FBI. His feelings, and the feelings of every other cop on the NYPD. She felt it wherever she went. Disdain. . . Elliot summed it up as, "laying down rules and sleeping in bureaucracy." It was hard to tell which he hated more, bureaucrats, or psychiatrists. She was both.

He smiled. He teased her all the time about working for the FBI, about being a mouthpiece and doing nothing. He let it pass now.

She stamped her foot.

"Did you just stamp your foot, little girl?" He burst out laughing. " I didn't say anything!"

She laughed, damn if she didn't stamp her foot_. Will I ever grow up?_ "You wanted to."

He put his arm around her shoulder and walked her back to the car.

"You aren't alone. Remember that." He would remember everything she had said.

They had driven separate cars to the park. She would meet him back at his house, but as she got into the car, she had one last thing to tell him. The FIGHT wouldn't let him get all this information out of her and not pay.

"Elliot, by the way," she said out the car window,"you guys at SVU are getting a full time FBI agent."

She saw the irritation on his face. _Wait for it_… she thought."Oh, and one more thing, he's a psychiatrist."

That night, every time Elliot tried to bring up her comment about the new agent at SVU, she pointed him back to his family.

She laid her head on the pillow that night with a smile on her face. Her phone rang. A text message. _"I'm here, and not going anywhere. Just wanted you to know. X"_

Regan shivered.


End file.
